Welcome to Dark Souls
by Slicerness
Summary: What happens when you put a super fan of Dark Souls in the place of the Chosen Undead? Nothing good, that's for sure. First and likely only attempt at a SI fic.


"_In the age of Ancients, the world was unform_-**Skip**

Wait, shit, I wanted to watch that. Whatever, time to kick some ass and bathe in the nostalgia.

-0-0-0-

"Ugh, I need a new mattress. Or at least a comfort... er?" Were my first words upon waking up, which trailed off as I looked around. I sure as hell wasn't in my bedroom anymore, which was where I naturally expected to wake up after a Dark Souls binge. I had no idea what prompted me to replay the entire first game in one sitting. Probably because Windows Live was dead and so I couldn't save and NEEDED to play it in one sitting if I wanted to beat the game-

But I digress. I was in a cell. The floor was covered in hay, big piles in all four corners, one of which I was laying in, and there was a bucket off the the side. I assumed that's my shittin' bucket, to be blunt. That's... a really unpleasant thought, I mused as the implications set in.

Also, I'm really heavy, I mean I knew I can get a bit sluggish after not getting enough sleep but this was a bit mu-

Oh, I was wearing armor. That's... an odd addition to my wardrobe.

"Waait a minute..." Gears turn slowly as I realized this cell looks really familiar, as did the armor that adorned my body. I glanced around to find a tarnished sword at my side. The blade had clearly been snapped, the end even bent sideways, while the remaining five inches of blade were rusted and cracked.

A Straight Sword Hilt.

I'm in motherfucking Dark Souls. Well, okay, I'm in Lordran, but whatever.

Most would be hit with a wave of crushing despair, perhaps they would sit in the cell and think that the whole thing was a dream, probably cutting themselves to make themselves wake up. I mean, this is _**Lordran**_, where the Undead Curse ran rampant, the gods were dying or dead, demons had overrun most of the country, and there seemed to be no remaining towns or cities that still stood that weren't populated by Hollowed out husks and a plethora of Chosen Undead Invading or being summoned in to make dicks of themselves for the lulz.

I am not most people, and those losers need to Git Gud.

"WHOO! It really sucked when I couldn't get the First Person Mod to work, but this is even better!" I cheered to myself, laughing happily as I stood up and snatched the rusted piece of crap that was going to be my weapon for at least a little while.

A commotion above me drew my attention, and I looked up. I had just enough time to widen my eyes and awkwardly shove myself backwards as the knight I knew to be named Oscar (of Astora) tossed a corpse down the skylight. I wanted to yell something up at him, probably a thanks for the key I knew would be on the corpse, but a loud crash rung in my ears and dust and a few bricks were knocked free as something heavy landed on the roof.

Oscar looked up, and even with the visor of his helmet lowered and concealing his eyes it was clear by his sudden shift in body language he was apprehensive and wide eyed at what he saw. For good reason too, because when he turned tail and hauled ass away I caught sight of the massive bulk of one of the two massive Demons that guarded the Asylum lumbering after him.

"Welp, that's going to go poorly. Hope I can fix that." I commented before I bent down to rifle through the dead Hollows tattered clothes. The keys weren't a glowing white vapor I could just pick up by pressing the 'action button', so it took me a few seconds to find them in the ruined vest pocket.

One jab and a twist, and my cell door was opened. The way it creaked and swayed though, I'm curious if, if I had an actual sword, I could maybe jam it into the gap between the cell and the gate and maybe pop the rusty hinges loose.

A clang of metal drew my attention and I look down to find a... blade? I bent down slowly to pick it up, my brain making the connection between it and what I held in my right hand. I lifted the Sword Hilt up to the newly found blade. They were a perfect match, they even had the same bend near the point where they broke.

"Huh, guess someone already tried that." I blurt, actually surprised any of the Hollows had enough sense of self or intelligence to have tried something so complicated. I shrugged and moved on though; other things to do.

The armor, Hardened Leather Armor - indicating I started as the Warrior Class I guess - was pretty heavy, keeping me from moving beyond a lumbering jog due to my own physical limitations, but that didn't stop me from skipping down the hall.

"~Well what have we here, is it a pilgrim, from the Asylum carried aloft~!" I sang to myself with a wide grin, pausing briefly to wind back my arm and slam the sword blade 'tip' first into the back of one of the Hollows that littered the hall's skull. He dropped like a bag of rocks, as one can assume.

Some would probably feel bad or hesitate to do this. I saw it as cleaning. They're Hollows, they're not even people anymore, just walking corpses that haven't had the good grace to stay dead.

"By a friend to our lady of sin-Oh holy shit that feels good!" I suddenly exclaimed as a white fog drifted away from the recently slain Hollow and sank into my own chest. Something within me grew stronger, just a little bit, and I _like_ the feeling of it!

"Is this what harvesting souls is like? I suddenly understand why people are so obsessed with it in this world." I almost salivated at the thought of killing a boss. If 20 souls did this, what would one hundred times that feel like?

I shook my head, worry about that later. For now, I needed to find myself a proper weapon.

The journey to the ladder at the end of the L shaped hallways was uneventful, both of the other two Hollows that occupied the hall and the small pool of water at the corner were dispatched with the same indifferent and mechanical stabs to the skull as the first.

The climb was, to be expected, slow due to the armor, but freeing. It smelled less like human waste and rotting meat up in the courtyard, which made it well worth the effort. As OI stepped into the courtyard I came upon the sight of a rusted sword stabbed into a pile of bones I knew to be from an Undead.

Now came the interesting part. As mentioned previously there was no action button, so how exactly was I supposed to Ignite the Bonfire?

Er, it turned out to be rather easy, actually. I held out my hand, as I would if I was playing the game, and visualized the dim embers flaring to life, trying to will this into being by focusing on where I could hazard a guess was the location of my soul, since it glowed and warmed when I killed the Hollows earlier.

The actualization of my will, powered by faith in my very being.

Which was just a pointlessly badass way of saying the bones ignited and the sword's blade glowed a heated white-red with warmth.

It was soothing, even more so than I expected. The heat was nice in the slight chill of the Asylum, and I found my gaze entranced by the flames, how they danced and crackled. I can see why Hollows waste away sitting at the Bonfire, instead of setting off to adventure in the harsh and unfair land around them.

But I shook the daze off and stood up from my kneeling position. I had a boss to slay and souls to obtain by Achieving Victory!

The doors were really heavy, the hinges pretty much pure rust, and the doors themselves didn't help by being made of solid iron. Or some kind of metal, I don't know, not a blacksmith.

"Ooh, I should head down and see the Backsmith in New Londo. Get enough souls and I could learn magic! Maybe, possibly..." I ramble as I try to keep myself calm for the upcoming boss fight. Well, boss encounter really, I don't have to fight him right now. In fact, doing so would be pointlessly fatal, since I have a rusted piece of shit and no shield.

Another crash signifies the beginning of the encounter, and despite knowing I should be sprinting towards the gate I can distantly hear opening to my left, I spare a second to look at my foe.

Look up at...

Look WAY up-

Okay where am I and what smells like urine.

I look around wildly, finding myself at the next Bonfire, which I light with a flick of my wrist and a flare of my soul - is that cool or fucking what?! - and decide to hop into the water to get rid of the smell.

So now I smell like stagnant water instead of urine. I'm not sure if it's a step up or not, but what's done is done. Seriously, did the demon piss on me when I ran for the gate? Also, when did I make a run for the gate, everything's kind of hazy.

Right, no time to dwell on that, I get my Class' weapons in the next hallway!

"Teehee!" I giggled like a schoolgirl, disturbingly wide smile on my face as I-***Clang!***

I look down to see an arrow had struck the side of my metal boot and bounced off, skidding uselessly across the ground, as it didn't have the right angle to get stuck in the ground, and ultimately fell to land in the water behind me.

"Oh right. _That_ asshole." I commented as I bustled into the room to my left, finding a plain metal shield with just a bit of a blue sheen on it resting on the arm of a corpse riddled with arrows. It was beat up as hell, but it was definitely a Heater Shield.

I hugged the piece of metal fondly, my cheek cooled instantly by the cold and pitted surface. So many memories, so many sick parries.

"Now to get that sword. Really hope I don't get hit in the eye with an arrow..." I found myself muttering as I step back into the slanted hallway.

At the end of the hall, above me, the Hollow with a bow actually jumped and hesitated. Using the time, I raised my shield high, but low enough I could still see him.

Hollows, as one can imagine, are pretty weak. Bows are quite difficult to pull back. The farther the string was pulled back, the more strength was required to counteract the resistance. These facts combined meant that, in order to reach me, the Hollow - who could barely pull the string back at all - had to arc his shot so high up in the air to reach me I didn't even bother to block. Instead, I chose to step to the side and kick off the broken remains of what used to be a small set of stairs in a lumbering, uneven charge, shield held in front of me just in case it could knock another arrow before I reached it.

It was utterly laughable, but it was apparently enough to intimidate the Hollow who lacked any kind of melee weapon, because he turned around and ran like his unlife depended on it.

Which, as it turned out, it did, because I tossed the Straight Sword Hilt and snatched up the surprisingly pristine looking Longsword from where it had been stabbed into another corpse as I ran past.

The pain train has no breaks, as the unfortunate Hollow found out. I'd like to claim the stab that shoved the length of hardened metal clean through the center of it's chest was graceful, but with all the momentum I'd build up, as well as the sudden weight of my new weapon, it was more along the lines of me just running into him with my weapon pointed vaguely forward. The fact that the tip of the Longsword found the center of it's chest was mere luck.

I heard bones crunch as I landed on the Hollow turned corpse. It was, while disgusting due to the smell, actually a pretty comfortable landing.

Getting up off the body, I grunted with the effort required to pull my sword free, before moving onward, bolstered by my new equipment, as well as the warm and empowering sensation of my very soul growing stronger, I pushed forward.

I looked briefly down at the Bonfire, happy to see that it still crackled merrily away. I didn't imagine it would go out, but I still felt like checking.

Plus I was kind of stalling. This next bit would be tricky.

I arrived at the two staircases, one leading up and the other down, nervous but prepared. I took the steps two at a time upwards, because taking things step by step is madness, I have no idea how some people do it-

My thoughts came to a screeching halt as I hurled myself to the right the second I heard a very familiar grinding sound. The landing was rough, made worse because I was landing on stone stairs. In the end it was harsh on my ankles, but nothing was sprained and I smiled as I heard a crash of metal and stone.

I climbed up the staircase and slipped into the new doorway to find a familiar face.

I approached, only to slow, a grimace gradually forming on my face. The games, needing to use the same character model for when Oscar came back later as a Hollow, had to have Oscar simply _sound_ injured in his dialogue for this encounter. Here, now, I saw the full extent of the damage. It wasn't pretty, and there was plenty of blood leaking from the cracked and heavily dented armor. While I couldn't see any injuries directly, I could make some pretty solid assumptions. He wasn't going to last long.

"Hey, knight, you awake?" I decided to probe gently, refraining from touching the man in case it further aggravated his wounds.

A low groan was my only answer as the man sat up, his movements jerky and forced.

"Ooh," He exhaled sharply, coming to a stop. His twisted armor wouldn't allow him to move any further, I imagined. His helmet turned slightly with a scrape of well maintained metal. "You... you're no Hollow."

I shook my head, "I've still got my wits about me."

He released what could have been a chuckle, and some of the relief even bled through in his tone, but unfortunately so too did actual blood, as the contraction of his diaphragm lead to pain.

"That's a relief," His voice was quiet but strong, perhaps resigned. Seeing this up close, my respect for the man grew. He probably had broken ribs stabbing into his organs, and yet he was able to maintain a well cultured and polite tone.

"I'm done for, I'm afraid. As you can probably tell," He gestured towards his torso. "My insides are badly damaged. I will die, and then... lose my sanity. Such is the fate of those cursed with the Dark Sign." He paused, and I felt his eyes on me. Really looking at me. He seemed to approve of what he saw, because he began speaking again, voice stronger now, though it was clearly not from his wounds healing or gaining any actual strength. "I have a favour to ask of you, if you would be willing?"

"You saved my life. I recognize you, sir knight, you dropped the key into my cell that freed me. I owe you a debt. Ask, and I will do my best to fulfill it." I respond in kind as I knelt down so he didn't have to crane his neck to look up at me.

He laughed lowly, genuine mirth filling the small corridor. "How rude of me. I am Oscar, of Astora, friend, and yourself?"

I paused. Did I use my name, the username I go by, or...? Would it even matter? If my plan didn't work, he was going to be dead in a few minutes anyway.

Still, I respected the man before me too much to lie, so I declare. "Justin," I hesitated slightly, but finish without missing more than a beat, "of Drangleic. A pleasure to meet a friendly face in this place."

"Likewise. We undead must stick together." He claimed, and I can hear a smile in his voice.

It drops quickly, as he sighs. "Regrettably, I have failed my mission. But perhaps...?"

He went on to explain the prophesy that had been passed down through his family line. He was hoping to jump-start the prophecy and place himself in the role of the Chosen Undead. A laudable goal. I knew of the cut content for this man, and I knew of his desire to be known for more than just being a knight in a land of legends and heroes.

His strength left him completely as he finished, and a long, rattling exhale was how he chose to finish his tale. "Thank you for hearing me out, now I can die with hope in my heart... Here, take these." He sluggishly reached into his pouch and pulled out a familiar green flask, glowing faintly from within like it contained the sunlight itself. There was also a key.

"No." I responded, taking the items.

My response confused him, and it showed as he jerked weakly, tilting his head in bewilderment. "I... don't understand, will you not fulfill my request, or do you not wish you receive my final gifts?"

I ignore him and instead stood up. I stepped forward to stand over him. Gripping his collar, I almost lifted him up to stare into the slits of his visor directly, but think better of it because of his already fleeting life force, and instead bend down to his level.

"You are undead. You can die time and time again. Death is cheap, Oscar. Is your ambition truly so weak, your goals not worthy enough, that a single loss would discourage you? I had thought more of you, after hearing your tale. Do you not wish to take up the mantle of the Chosen Undead and free us all from the Curse?" I argued passionately.

"..."

I feared he'd died, but there was no rush of souls, so I remained hopeful.

He suddenly laughed, loudly, coughing and hacking every few seconds, but it didn't seem to bother or dampen his mood. "You're right. You're right! What a fool I was, giving up so easily. I am Oscar, of Astora, and _I will make my mark on this land_!"

He slumped, and I let go of his collar. The air of solemn resignation that had filled the corridor lifted, like a veil being pulled away.

"We will meet again, friend. Thank you for your words, they were just what I needed. Keep the Flask, I will find another. I will surely die now, but when I revive by the Bonfire downstairs, I will take up my sword and escape from this prison. Good luck on your... own... quest..."

This time, I knew he had died. The rush of souls was so great it would have brought me to my knees if I hadn't already been kneeling.

I felt good. Great, even, both from the rush of power as well as the knowledge that I had actually saved a life – sorta, being Undead made that a pretty murky concept. It felt like I was walking on air as I left the room and clanked my way down the stairs to the metal door beneath. Using the key, I unlocked the door. I had a friend who would appreciate the shortcut when he returned.

I had more to do, however. I didn't really need to top off my new Flask, as it appeared full already, so I shambled my way up the stairs, gait a bit awkward as my leg muscles strained to lift the greaves and boots up the stone steps.

As I reached the very top, another Hollow greeted me. His eyes were alight with actual anger, apparently he had been very hopeful his boulder trick would kill me. Seeing as that was not the case, he made what probably would have been a fairly impressive warcry if he had a tongue and charged forward to swing his weapon; the same cracked straight sword everyone here seemed to favor.

It bounced harmlessly off my raised shield in a brief shower of sparks. My return strike, an overhead slash that used more of the weapons weight than my own precision to do damage, wound up striking him right where his neck met his shoulder, and stopping splitting him in two just a few inches above his crusty belly button.

I lurched forward as the body fell backwards with my blade still stuck in it, but a grunt and a tug freed it. A rough swing caused the filth marring it to spray the ground in front of me.

Path clear, I stepped forward and unlocked the door. Opening it slowly, I felt just the slightest bit of wind being taken out of my sails as I realized the coming encounter would be the first fight where I needed to fight multiple enemies.

As happens to a lot of heroes, I once again got blatantly lucky.

I peaked around the corner see how close they were, and was suddenly nose to nose with one of the two melee Hollows that waited there. Fight or flight kicked in, and as I was wearing armor and wielding a sword, instincts demanded the former.

A cry of both surprise and effort bellowed forth, and I stabbed the Longsword to the hilt into the mottled web of flesh where his heart was located. There was a strange level of resistance near the end, and when I pulled my sword free it quickly became apparent why, as the second Hollow toppled over backwards, blood pouring out of a gash in it's neck. I had accidentally killed them both in one blow.

Yet another thing I really wish I could claim credit for.

"Ohshit!" I exclaimed as I ducked out of the way of an arrow whizzing past my cheek.

Making the assumption I had a few seconds before another arrow was knocked and ready for firing, I leaned my head out again to make sure I knew where the bodies of the other two Hollows were so I didn't trip over them in a moment.

Ducking behind cover, I held my shield out for the Hollow to shoot at, hoping it would be stupid enough to fall for it.

The Twang of metal scraping against metal a few seconds later caused me to grin before I leapt out and charged forward, shield held up just in case it was faster than I expected.

It was fortunate that I did, because the Hollow fired another arrow as I was closed in. The metal tipped cylinder of wood bounced off the very top of my shield, and only my phobia of having anything pokey near my eyes caused me to jerk my head sharply to the right enough that it shot harmlessly past my temple, before my conscious mind even knew what it's trajectory was.

Seeing as I had time, and I was feeling pretty pissed off at the near blinding, I hopped forward, swung my entire body around in a circle, and swung my sword arm as hard as I could in a horizontal slash.

My momentum barely slowed when metal met flesh, but when I came to a stop I was faced with a headless opponent. It was very satisfying, made all he better as I gained the fallen's souls.

I turned to the fog gate, and could even hear the hum of it, but my pride and greed got the better of me, and I walked onward into what I knew was a dead end. What awaited inside was the only enemy in the area, aside from the Asylum Demon's of course, that I could dub competent. Wielding a Longsword identical in design to my own, as well as a significantly larger shield, it stepped into the torchlight, sunken eyes filled with nothing but hunger.

He, or, upon closer inspection, she, charged forward in a painfully telegraphed stinger. Having assumed she would do just that I had prepared accordingly and angled my shield slightly away from me.

I underestimated just how strong the Hollow before me was though. Definitely on a league above the others I'd fought. While I didn't take a hit, and the sword was indeed deflected in a way that caused the Hollow to be thrown off balance, so was I.

Both of us recovered at the same time, and we both raised our weapons. I chose to play the defensive game again. This time her sweeping slash was stopped flat, and with my feet firmly planted on the ground and my shield arm held firm in anticipation, the Hollow was left wide open.

"Hah!" The cry of effort wasn't really required, but it released the tension as I swung my blade in an overhand strike, not unlike a club. Metal met flesh with a crunch of bone as the Hollow's skull was caved in.

"Yesss..." I hissed at the rush of souls, three times as many as the other Hollows that I'd fought. That felt good, exhilarating even. It was an actual fight, not just me wildly slashing at things that were just a step up from being defenseless. It gave me real hope that I could do this. Underneath the bluster, I felt genuine self confidence growing.

I looked down and considered taking the shield from the defeated Hollow, but decided against it. I was already skirting the border of what I could carry around on me with my current level of strength, and the Heater Shield was light weight enough I could position it as needed fairly quickly.

I gazed longingly at the locked iron gate before me. I knew I would open it later, but right now it just represented my inability to get one of the most useful rings around.

With a sigh, I trudged back to the fog gate. Instead of approaching though I turned and approached the railing that lead down the the cliff face. There was a surprisingly sturdy metal fence atop the stone waist high wall keeping people from falling off. I didn't actually remember that being there in the games, but honestly I could have just forgotten because its... well its a fence, it's not exactly important.

I looked over my shoulder and eyed the fog gate before turning back and eying the ground. Boy was that a long fall. Climbing the fence really wouldn't be that difficult though. I could probably even survive the fall - though it was longer than I remember it being. I thought the balcony was on the second or even third floor, but the drop I was looking at was more along the lines of four or five stories up. Not to mention I'm pretty weighed down by my gear.

"Eh, I'll think on it some more while I grind a bit." I pitched to myself.

I'm weird in the respect that I actually enjoy tasks that most would find horribly monotonous and repetitive, as long as there's a visible benefit, no matter how small it is. For instance, going back to the Bonfire, walking up the two flights of stairs, slaying the freshly regenerated Hollow at the top, walking forward and turning the corner, slaying two more sword wielding Hollows, dodging or blocking a loosed arrow, charging, skewering the bow wielding Hollow, entering the next room, having an actual fight against the female Hollow Soldier, and finally walking back to the Bonfire before repeating that process over and over and over was something I could effortlessly do. Made possible because I could actually feel my own soul grow in power with every kill.

While none of them but the Hollow Soldier put up any kind of fight, I steadily grew more comfortable with my equipment. Maybe not more proficient, but the sword didn't feel quite so foreign in my hands, and I began seeing where the enemy strikes would go so I could block them accordingly. This was only really possible because Hollows are slow and telegraph the hell out of their swings, but still, I was beginning to actually feel confident.

Unfortunately Oscar never respawned in the time I was doing all of this. I'm not sure if he respawned somewhere else and needed to break back into the Asylum again, or if a sane Undead just took longer to regenerate, but the bottom line was that I don't have any support for the upcoming fight.

Speaking of, now standing in front of the Fog Gate, I glance behind me again as the plan from earlier forms. More confident or not, it's an entirely valid plan that should be given a chance. I sheathed my sword and hooked my shield onto a clasp on my lower back. No sense in having them out and possibly stab myself by mistake if I actually did what I was thinking of.

Okay, cons of this plan; the fall. Pros? I wouldn't have to fight the Asylum De

Why am I falling?

Wow the ground is coming up f-

Okay, real talk. I've never broken a bone before. I've never even sprained a joint before. Worst injury I've ever had was slamming a knee into the handlebars of my bike so hard it split my knee open and made my entire leg tingly and numb for about an hour.

I was likely in a state of absolute shock as I eyed the ruined mess of exposed bone and flesh that used to be my legs. I only guess this because I didn't feel any pain from the wounds. So, I slowly, very slowly, reached for my Estus Flask and then started chugging madly. I probably should have taken small sips and stopped when I was healed to preserve the precious liquid, but in the mental state I was in – bordering on hysteria – I just wanted things FIXED. The sunlight colored liquid poured from the flask in such great quantities I ended up only swallowing about half of it, the other half just poured down my face and into my armor.

When I came back to myself I was licking the empty Estus flask, my thankfully restored legs twitching and moving seemingly on their own, just to assure me they still worked.

I placed the empty Flask on my belt and took a deep breath, standing as I did so. I'm okay, everything is healed and I managed to act quickly enough to avoid passing out. Now I just needed to grab something and approach the cliff. And hope the raven picked me up, now that I think about it. Would Velka see me as worthy if I hadn't actually killed the Asylum Demon? Was that even how it worked?

I mused on the ramifications of Giant Crow loyalty as I slowly walked down the path towards where I knew a Large Soul of the Lost Undead was located.

What I found was a small, clear, raw looking crystal with a swirling mass of white energy within it. It felt fragile in my hand, and I could hazard an educated guess that it would shatter easily if I tried to crush it, granting me the souls held within. I decided to hang onto it though, and placed it within one of the three pouches upon my belt. It would need to do until I obtained a Bottomless Box, or I decided to go ahead and use it.

As I reached the path leading both to and away from the Asylum I realized something. Oscar was going to come back at some point – not sure when, it could honestly be weeks, or just like, an hour, for all I know – and he's going to be facing that Demon alone.

I'm filled with a sense of guilt. Maybe I should go back and fight alongside hi

Okay seriously what the hell, now I'm all the way at the edge of the cliff and I'm pretty fucking sure I wasn't here a second agooooOOH SHIT THAT'S A BIG BIRD!

I will shamelessly admit I screamed like a five year old girl getting the biggest fucking pony she's ever seen for a birthday present; only with a heaping dose of absolute terror thrown in. Knowing there was a Giant Motherfucking Crow that was slated to pick you up, and actually seeing it swoop down, wings flaring to their fullest, loose feathers being hurled into the breeze kicked up, was absolutely different.

I didn't even feel it's talons grab my arms as it carried me away, I was far too busy... what would the term be? Ah, _gibbering in terror_ to do much of anything.

Apparently even after I was dropped off I stayed like that for a while, because the Crestfallen Warrior at Firelink Shrine noticed me get up and made a snide remark about it.

"Fate of the Undead, hmm?" He said, his lilting, mocking voice making me want to parry crit-stab him right in the gut.

I held back, I really didn't want to kill anyone that wasn't a Hollow. Even if he _was_ entirely irrelevant to anything and everything that was going to happen.

Besides, he was already suffering a far greater torture than I could ever visit upon him; slowly rotting away as his cowardice forced him to remain where he was. Forced to watch as others succeed and make progress while he stagnates and wallows.

Schadenfreude is such a beautiful thing...

A thought occurred to me. This is where you can level up for the first time, and as I am I'd be pretty fucked if I couldn't improve myself in some way aside from actually working out. That sounds both hellishly boring, and largely pointless too.

"Hey Cresty!" I call from the Bonfire.

"Cresty?" He replied, seemingly baffled into not sounding like the world's biggest stabbing target that's basically asked you to use it. "My name is-

I interrupted him, "Yeah whatever. Look, I've had a really long day, so just tell me one thing. Is it possible to use souls to... enhance yourself? Grow stronger or faster or even smarter?" I hazarded.

He seemed to pout, but sighed and relented. "Very well, if it will get you to leave me to my thoughts sooner. Yes, Soul Reinforcement does what you describe. Gaze deep into the Bonfire and focus on your soul. Gauge it's strength, it's weakness, and the well of souls you have gathered. All will become apparent."

And then he fell silent.

Well, alright, let's try that then. First though, I reached into my pouch, wrapped my hands around the Soul Crystal held within and crushed it.

The rush of souls was welcome to both calm me down from the still lingering shakes from the crow ride, and gave me more power to work with.

I knelt before the Bonfire and stretched a hand outward towards it, closing my eyes. The next step was focusing on my soul, which was surrounded by the mass of other souls I had obtained from combat and the Crystal use. From there, I tried to peer deeper at my own soul. Knowing what I was about to do, I imagined my strength, how lacking it was.

**Strength: 6**

Wait what? I didn't expect a literal stat screen when I did this. I mean sure I expected maybe a vague level I could eventually put into a number, with practice and some reference on what the levels even meant, but this was just ridiculous.

A quick check revealed I had just under three thousand souls, so I dumped every single one of them into strength. I couldn't tell how much I needed to use get a point into the attribute, but since I was going to be focused solely on that stat for a while, I was content. More, I was highly pleased to see the **6** turn into a **13**.

I pull back, not really knowing any other way to cancel what I was doing. Thankfully that worked just fine and I find myself taking two much steps back from the Bonfire.

Easier steps, wow that actually feels pretty good. The armor sits a lot better on me now. While it'll take a while to get used to the specifics of moving in armor – weight distribution is pretty important, as I've discovered – I can at least carry the stuff without much difficulty now.

So I guess Stamina is going to be a useless stat for a while, if strength makes it so I can carry stuff better, unlike the game. I don't really feel tired, despite all I'd done compared to my fairly out of shape physique. Good genetics, I guess. Fast metabolisms are great, they keep you fit even if you do literally nothing strenuous all day, but they really burn through energy. Being hungry every other hour fucking sucks.

Wait. Food. What am I going to eat when I get hungry? _Will_ I get hungry? I assume I'm Undead since the Estus Flask heals me, but I can't exactly prove that unless I want to jam a length of metal into my chest and just see what happens when my heart stops beating.

Am I going to have to start eating rats? God that would suck. I mean I have no shortage of Bonfires to cook them with, but they poison you on contact, so I'm just going to go out on a limb and assume they have the plague or something equally horrible.

… I wonder what Harpy taste like?

"Boy this is a weird place for my thoughts to go. Moving on!" I forcefully declare as I wander over the the nearby well, incredibly curious as to what I'm going to find.

In the game, Humanity is an item used to increase your 'Soft Humanity', a largely insignificant number next to your health that increases your item discovery, boosts Chaos Flame damage if you have an appropriately buffed weapon, and increases your resistance to the dreaded 'Curse' status ailment. Their appearance was a semi-solid wift of black haze surrounded by a white mist, sort of. Hard to explain. A black and white Will 'o' Wisp, basically.

There was a corpse slumped over a well a short walk from the Bonfire. On the corpse was supposed to be three Humanities. Rifling through the poor saps pockets revealed... three marbles?

I held one up, examining it. It's perfectly round, no sign of impurity, and a sort of soft white color while being most see through. Inside was a wisp of blackness that was the exact opposite, a dark, inky black color that, as cliché as the saying was, seemed to pull in all light around it, consuming it.

Looking at it intently, I feel something deep within me shiver and I'm struck with a faint but powerful urge to feed and consume.

Right, into the pouch _those_ go. That was weird.

Thankfully the feeling goes away when I break eye contact with the flickering wisp. I get the same impression of the marbles I did from the solid Souls I found; that I could shatter and use them with a simple squeeze, so if I need them they're on hand.

Hope I don't need them though, I really don't want to die, even if I can come back – which I'm still not going to test out.

Moving on, my next stop was a little farther up the Shrine, just before the section that housed Petrus, I took a right and found another corpse with a handful of Firebombs in it's lap. Judging by the item picture and how you use them, I'd always just assumed they were an 'explode on contact' style weapon. I'm pleased to find that assessment was indeed true, as there was no fuse anywhere on any of the six round explosive devices. Hope nothing smashes the pouch they're in, that would be one hell of an exlosion. Man am I looking forward to getting that Bottomless Box.

Petrus seems too busy thinking to even notice me, and I have no need to him at the moment to chat him up. The Way of White was an entirely useless covenant, but it would be useful to join just to learn some Miracles. I wonder what my Faith stat is? Would it be high because I _know_ the Miracles will work? Or will it be low for the same reason? Faith and assuredness in one's self were two different things, after all.

I guess it all depends on where the Miracles's power comes from. Is it from myself, or will I be asking and receiving a fraction of the gods powers for my own use? If it was the latter, I might be screwed when it comes to Miracles. Everlasting Dragon aside, I pretty much actively despise all the gods and powerful beings of the Dark Souls universe.

I'm going to make a serious attempt to talk to Queelag though. And Priscilla.

At least the latter of whom won't run me through if I'm wrong about them, she'll just tell me to leave, so that's a nice thought.

Fluffy half-dragon tail, oh how I want to feel it~

"Okay, getting weird again. Musings for later. Still got some stuff left to get." I shake my head and push onwards.

Up several flights of stairs, ignoring the elevators for now, I come upon – surprise surprise – another corpse. This one clutching a hunk of Souls in it's hand.

With that stuffed into my pouch, I very carefully drop down the elevator shaft. The fall isn't even very far, but I guess I'm a bit paranoid of falls still after the snafu at the Asylum.

My caution is unfounded as I land without any scrap of difficulty. That extra strength is really coming in handy. I should see about maybe upgrading armor at some point actually. Couldn't hurt to keep my squishy meat prison safer in this place. Best armor I could think of I could use with my current abilities would be the two Knight Sets, both of which are in Darkroot Basin. That's really not viable though so I think I'll just see about purchasing a Chainmail Set from the Merchant in the Burg.

Or I could viciously murder the Cresty, since that's what he's wearing. This isn't a game, I could easily loot his corpse for the armor, and he _does_ have a lot of souls...

I laugh nervously to myself, that was a really flippantly dark turn my thoughts took there! Casual murder probably shouldn't be _that_ casual (and tempting), mostly joking or not.

Once more moving on from my monologuing, I crack open the four chests of what's implied to be Petrus' gear. Inside the first was four Cracked Red Eye Orbs, pebble sized red stones shaped like eyes with a crack running through them. Next was a basic Talisman (hello Miracles! Once I learn some anyway), as well as a nice shiny, not to mention sharp as hell, Morning Star mace. Opening another chest revealed four of what I barely recognize as Loyd's Talismans, an item I've used all of five times per playthrough, and purely for Mimics. The last chest contained what looked to be finger bones, six of them, which I'm going to assumed are Homeward Bones.

I should really test the Bones out, in case I need to make a quick escape for whatever reason, but the nearest merchant that sells the damn things only appears after I ring the first bell, and they cost two thousand souls each. Far more than I can afford right now.

So yeah, I decide to instead store five of them in the pouch I've chosen for my utility items and store the last in a small pouch on the back of my glove. Like a fake tooth, this way I can easily crush it on the fly if the need ever crops up, instead of wasting valuable seconds retrieving it.

The Morning Star has a very helpful loop on the handle, which allows me to hook it to my belt. I'm grateful for it, honestly, I really don't know how to carry it otherwise.

That done, I gird my loins and slide down the hill leading towards the graveyard behind the Shrine, exclaiming an enthusiastic 'Whee!' like the mature man I am as I do so.

Adrenaline kicks in as I set about doing the trickiest part of any new character; getting the items in the Graveyard without dying like a punk bitch.

The rattle of bones is what really sends the adrenaline surging though, and I charge forward to jump and land metal boots first on the skull of one of the skeletons.

The rush of souls is the indicator I use to judge of it's 'dead', and turn to the seconds reanimated skeleton, only to see it almost finished standing up.

Not feeling confident I can kill it in actual combat, and seeing as killing it isn't my purpose here, I take off towards where I know the Winged Spear is.

It's a bit difficult to do, but I sheath my longsword at my waist as I run past the massive bones of the first of two Giant Skeletons in the area. The spear is ignored, seeing as I only have two hands and one of them is going to bed used for my shield no matter what.

The rattling of bones behind me as I run past is far louder and somehow deeper, which only prompts me to run faster.

Weaving between tombstones, I'm actually feeling pretty good about this. Sure it's dangerous as all hell, but with hope I'll have a huge fuck off Zweihander soon to use soon, which is always a big motivator for me. And that plan goes flawlessly until I actually grab the thing.

So massive fuck off Zweihanders are also fucking _heavy_. I'd kill for an inventory system to make it weightless, but I don't have that luxury and I need to get moving NOW.

Legs already feeling sore, nonetheless begin pumping anew as I begin sprinting again, weighed down heavily now.

Dread begin to grow as my pace is far slower than before. The skeletons can't be far behind me. I can't really hear them over the sound of my new weapon grinding on the earth and stone behind me, but it's not that hard to make the assumption.

Dread gives way to panic as I try to push myself harder; the thought of just using a Homeward Bone not occurring to me, much less just dropping the sword.

"Oh god, oh shit, please make it, please make-**hughgh**..."

My legs go completely slack and a feeling of weightlessness overcomes me. A deep, penetrating pain resonates from my chest and I glance down to stare in shock at the bloody rounded rectangle of metal sticking out of the leather covering my chest.

It is the single most painful experience I've ever felt. Unlike before with my legs, the shock doesn't block out the pain, and what's worse is in addition to the pain I also distantly realize the blade must have either severed or at least damaged my spine, because it's the only thing holding me up.

Made very apparent as it's pulled out of me harshly and I just collapse to the ground.

Blood, tears, and snot both hit the ground the same time my face does, as I completely lose composure. I would have curled into a ball if I could, but I can do little but gurgle on my own blood as a shadow is cast over me, crying in pain and dearly wishing I was anywhere else.

I have less than a second to look up and see the gleaming eyes of one of the Giant Skeletons as it brings it's appropriately sized Falcion down on me.

And that's it, for all my bluster and knowledge and bravado, Lordran witnesses another death and cares not one bit. Chosen Undead I am not, it seems.

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Achievement Unlocked:

Welcome to Dark Souls

Unlocked upon your first character death.

**YOU DIED**

Get used to it.

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This was pretty fun to make actually. If anyone wants to see more I could be persuaded to do it, but otherwise this was just my own personal take on the SI genre and will end here.


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